Maybe This Christmas
by TerrifyingThings
Summary: Shawn hates Christmas parties. Vince throws a Christmas party every year for the roster to come and celebrate. Eventual Bret/Shawn
1. Chapter 1

"Vince, you know I fucking hate Christmas parties." Shawn was nervously biting his fingernails while they waited for the rest of the roster to show up. Today marked one week before Christmas and everyone was excited to be going home for the holidays in the morning. That meant the annual Christmas party that the McMahon's threw for their employees. Shawn hated every minute of it, not because he hated Christmas, well he did, but it was mostly because he hated at least eighty percent of his coworkers. The hate was mutual.

"So you insist on telling me, Shawn, tonight is about celebration. Just relax and have some fun." Vince was grinning at him with one of the most hideous Christmas sweater Shawn had ever seen on. This man wouldn't know dignity if it punched him in the face. Shawn began to turn around to storm off and sulk in the corner when he felt a hand smack his ass.

"What in the ever loving hell?" Shawn turned around to see the already drunk face of his best friend, Hunter. Tonight was going swimmingly, honestly. Shawn just shook his head, flipped him off, and continued on his path to the corner by the backdoor so he could slip out later with no notice.

From across the room, Shawn saw more and more people begin to show up. The likes of Steve Austin, Taker, and Owen Hart came strolling in as soon as Shawn made the decision to leave quickly, but they Owen had immediately spotted him and was walking over. Bret must be taking his sweet time, enjoying the freedom of the outside world before he was trapped in here with people you only tolerate because you have to.

"Shawn, how are you?" Owen's tone was entirely too upbeat for Shawn's taste. Owen loved Christmas and Christmas parties, anything to do with Christmas, and he was there.

"I'm doing swell, just peachy." His reply was quiet, almost nervous. Owen wasn't a bad guy, but his brother really didn't like him, so who knows how Owen felt about him. They tolerated each other, which is what everyone did with Shawn.

"Aw come on, it's almost Christmas, don't be grumpy." His Canadian accent was very distinct and Shawn usually would've made a joke involving maple syrup or bags of milk, but he wasn't in the mood for it today.

"You have friends here, O. Sober, nice friends. Go talk to someone you really want to talk to. You don't have to be nice to me, eh?" He put on a big fake grin and looked up from where he was staring at the floor. The look on Owen's face was a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"I don't just talk to you to be nice, Michaels. I talk to you because I want to talk to you. You know, being a dick all the time must be really exhausting, take a break sometime." And with that he walked back toward Steve and Taker, now joined by The Hitman himself. The bastard was always so smug and conceited; it made Shawn want to barf.

"Who invited these druggies?" Came the booming voice of Jerry Lawler, the self-proclaimed king. Everyone in the room got quiet and looked to where Kevin Nash and Scott Hall were sitting, too high to notice the change of the mood in the room; they liked to party, so what? They would've been looking at Shawn too if he hadn't been hiding in the corner.

"I mean, Hall and Nash are here. Waltman and Blondie are over there. All we need now is Michaels and it'll be GI Joe: Druggie edition, complete set too." Lawler was drunk off his ass and shouting at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear. Shawn glanced over to see Vince with a red face and beady eyes aimed at Jerry. This wasn't going to go well. Maybe he should make a run for it now.

"WAIT! There's Shawn in the corner. Must be high off his ass, too high to party? That's a new low for you, man." Vince had security physically remove Jerry from the party and had a couple of them stand guard at the doors to make sure he didn't weasel his way back in. That meant Shawn couldn't sneak out without being seen by one of Vince's bitches.

Shawn sat there with his head in his hands and willed himself to get up and go have fun, but he just couldn't. After the stunt that Jerry pulled, every eye would be travelling to him for a good hour or so. His heart just wasn't in parties anymore, it wasn't in anything anymore. He made the decision to go and talk to Waltman; he was the most sober one out of their little Kliq, besides Shawn.

"Hey Kiddo, you alright?" Shawn gave him a small smile and sat down in-between him and Hunter, who currently had his tongue down some redheads' throat. Waltman nodded, but kept his eyes trained on his shoes, what Lawler said had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I shouldn't have let him say that shit, I mean that's what friends do, right? Stand up for you when you can't…" Shawn let out a sigh and rubbed at his beard. This really did leave a bad taste in his mouth and he was never good at giving advice. This night just kept getting better and better. Was it time to leave yet?

"Look kid, don't let the verbal vomit these people say get to you. We party; we get high sometimes, and fuck anyone who looks down their self-righteous nose at us, okay?" Shawn got louder with every word and suddenly he felt eyes on him. There was at least double the amount of his coworker around the room than he remembered there being and he was starting to panic. Why hadn't he just left earlier? Waltman shook his head and smiled a genuine smile.

"Thanks, Shawn." His voice was just above a whisper, but he heard it. Shawn nodded his head and went to go help Scott, who just ran to the trashcan, ready to puke. Eyes were still on him after he made sure Scott was okay, the music hadn't even started back up yet and he had a feeling of dread dropped in the pit of his stomach that made his heart rate speed up. Turning his back to Scott, he looked around the room and found the face of Vince McMahon glowering at him. He also found the face of Owen Hart looking nervously between him and their boss. This wasn't good.

"Someone's in deep shit now." Steve Austin whispered to Taker, but it was heard all over the room. People kept trying to look away from this stare down between Shawn and Vince, but nobody really had the willpower. Shawn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Today really couldn't get any better than this.

"You told me you were clean, Shawn." Vince's face said fury, but you wouldn't be able to tell it by the deadly calmness of his voice. He was clean, he hadn't been high in weeks, and the withdrawals were still hitting him hard. He didn't know if he would stay clean, he even told Vince that. There was just too much pressure all the time, building and building.

"I am clean." Three words said with a confidence that he didn't know he had off-screen. He hadn't touched anything except a few beers to stop the ringing in his ears when the pressure finally blew up. Vince didn't look convinced though. Waltman stood up to vouch for him, but one withering look from Vince had him keeping quiet.

"That's bullshit. I heard you, you said "we". "We get high sometimes" that's what you said." He should really learn to control the volumes of his voice; this problem would have been easily avoided. Bret walked a couple steps forward from where he was sitting and cleared his throat to get Vince's attention.

"Vince, I haven't seen him come in to work high in weeks. I don't think he's lying, sir, and do you really think that having a nice little chat about this needs to happen here?" Bret motioned around to everyone watching it all unfold before them. He turned to Shawn and gave him a half-smile. Shawn just looked at him like he'd grown a third arm right there before his eyes.

"I'm scheduling you and the rest of the kliq for a drug test in two weeks once everyone gets back from vacation. If you aren't clean, so help me, you'll all be in rehab before you can blink. I trusted you when you said you were clean and none of you will break that trust, do you understand?" Vince bellowed on with finality in every word. He wasn't kidding this time and Shawn knew that Kevin and Scott were far from clean and Kid probably had traces of heroin. Hunter had never done the stuff, so he was clean. The others had two weeks to get clean and Shawn had no uncertainty in his mind that they would fail.

Some Christmas party this turned out to be, Shawn ran a hand through his hair, turned, and headed for the door. Screw this party.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn almost made it to his car when Owen Hart came running after him. He just couldn't escape this fucking party.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was fucked up, man, you're definitely clean." He studied Shawn's face and saw the clearness of his eyes and the tremble of his hands. The withdrawal symptoms were still evident. Shawn just nodded his head in agreement, clearly done with this night and ready to go. He wanted a fix and he wanted one bad. Shawn let out a loud groan and hung his head.

"O, what hotel are you staying at?" He couldn't go back to his room, not with Kevin and Scott coming in later with some freshly bought drug and a small army of women. He needed somewhere else, anywhere else, even if that meant Bret Hart would likely be there. Shawn clutched his stomach in pain, the thought of drugs had his body aching, reacting to the thought that it might feel good later.

"We're staying at The Lowell, I think it's a few blocks from yours. Shawn, are you okay?" His heart started to pound fast like it did when his withdrawals were really bad a week ago. He hadn't had a fit like this in days, and in front of a Hart no less. Shawn doubled over in pain and clutched onto Owens shoulders to keep from falling. He was focusing on trying not to vomit.

"I can't do this, Owen, I can't. I need something or this shit is going to kill me." He pushed Owen out of the way and vomited all over the pavement in the driveway. He was almost tempted to run, but knew he'd fall flat on his ass due to nausea. Owen was beside him in seconds, pulling his hair back and away from his face as he gagged and dry heaved.

"I know something that can help you, Shawn, but you have to trust me." Owen was rubbing Shawn's back and looking around for Bret, where was he when you need him? He had an idea, but Shawn and Bret hated each other and it would probably do more damage than help. He was spending Christmas with his family and knew Shawn wasn't on speaking terms with his parents lately. Drugs really fuck everything up. He saw Shawn nod his head, ready to hear his suggestion.

"Come to Canada for Christmas, eh? If there's one thing my family knows, it's discipline. We could help you; tie you up if we have to." His tone was joking, but they both knew they really would. Shawn needed all the help he could get, so he ended up nodding his head against his better judgement. The hart family really didn't like him and he honestly couldn't blame them, he had disrespected the entire family on live television just to piss Bret off. Owen helped him in the car and they were on the road back to the hotel in seconds.

"Hey Shawn, if you would've gone back to your hotel…" Owen trailed off mid-sentence, not wanting to think about Shawn frantically stabbing a needle full of who knows what into his veins. Shawn was a good guy, he just needed some help. He had his face pressed up against the window, enjoying the way the cold glass eased his burning skin. Owen looked away from Shawn and back towards the road.

"If I went back to my hotel, I would be shooting up by now." He sighed and continued to stare out of the window. Owen felt his head nod even though Shawn wasn't looking in his direction. Shawn was a good guy; he just really needed some help.

He thought about telling Bret before he left and warning him that Shawn would be staying with them, but thought his brother could use a surprise.


End file.
